Forgotten Thorn
by fate-has-laid-a-hand
Summary: "You can scour the entire stem ten times over, thinking you removed every dangerous thorn, but in the end? There's always a chance that if you touch a rose the wrong way, it'll only hurt you." - Emma shows up to Regina's door with roses at midnight; Regina turns it into a lesson. - SwanQueen.


_A/N: For my very first SwanQueen fic, I decided to devise a little one-shot to try my hand at writing these characters._

 _Doesn't take place in any particular timeframe and may contain slight spoilers. Hope you enjoy, and feedback of any sort is more than welcome._

There was no valid reason for Emma Swan to be smitten by the very woman that she was smitten by. It made no logical sense to her, or anyone around her – not that anyone beside herself knew of her little…fixation. Although, Henry probably had a pretty good idea because despite the fact that he had a tendency to be a bit naïve, he was still incredibly perceptive when it came to the feelings of his mothers. She knew that if her parents, or anyone else in town for that matter found out, then they'd be equally as

Even so, she didn't understand why she couldn't get Regina Mills out of her head.

On second thought, no, that was a lie.

She knew exactly why.

It was just the simple fact that Regina was gorgeous. Paired with that voice and _damn._

Besides, aren't the villains always desirable? Doesn't everyone want to flirt with the dark side?

Emma needed _something_ to rationalize the thoughts buzzing through her mind, all of which concerned the former Evil Queen. She would also be lying if she said her attraction to Regina was solely based on her looks.

Regina never hid the person she was. She didn't cower behind a façade or false pretenses. She presented herself in the most raw and heart-wrenching way possible – as a woman who caused so much grief, that she didn't deserve a happy ending.

If Emma knew nothing else though, she at least knew that Regina should be happy. She had worked so hard for it; she had _changed._ The blonde had seen her kind, gentle side. Her heart might be blackened, but it was still caring and strong. Regina was a fiercely protective woman when she had something worth protecting. And Emma wanted her to be happy with her. She trusted her.

So, maybe that's why Emma is currently standing on Regina's front porch, a bouquet of blood red roses nervously clutched in her grasp. She is certain that she had never been more scared than she is right now, and she has faced things that most people only see in their nightmares.

She isn't scared _of_ Regina though. She's scared of rejection. Of course, if it turns out that she misread all of the signs and the former queen has no interest in her at all, Emma will find some way to play it off. But as soon as Regina returned back to the market after she had ended things with Robin, Emma knew she had to make a move before some other person came into the picture, claiming to be Regina's next true love.

Emma slowly but surely has learned a thing or two about love within the years she has been living in Storybrooke, and she knows that one of the very first things that are needed to get the ball rolling, is someone making the first move. And it looks like that has to be her.

 _That's_ why she's on Regina's porch, and that's also why she's slowly raising her closed fist to gently rap against the wood.

Inwardly, she's hoping that Regina won't kick her on her ass, considering it's nearly midnight on a weekday and she isn't sure how late mayors stay up on a regular night. But she didn't want Henry to see it all happen, especially if it ended with Regina poofing her to some deserted island in a cloud of purple smoke. So she had to come over when she knew he was asleep. And that is just what she's done.

It's been a full ten minutes of waiting now though and just as Emma's going to retreat for the night, the front door is slowly pulled open, revealing a tired woman who's rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, dressed in a lilac silk matching pajama set, hair mussed just slightly due to friction against her pillow.

"Swan?" Regina questions skeptically, blinking several times as though she can't believe her eyes. "What the hell are you doing here at this hour? There had better be – " She cuts her own sentence short as her sleepy gaze falls to the roses that Emma still has in a death grip. "Oh?"

"There isn't an emergency," Emma quietly answers the unfinished question, appearing as though she's a deer in headlights, thanking her lucky stars that at least Regina hasn't staring cussing her out yet. "I just…" Her own line of sight lowers to the flowers that she's now gripping so hard that a thorn pokes through the wrapping and jabs her finger. "Ow!" She yelps, nearly dropping the bouquet, momentarily becoming distracted as she switches the roses to her other hand, inspecting her afflicted thumb.

"Come inside you fool," Regina murmurs quietly, reaching out to gently grip Emma's forearm and guiding her into her home. There's a smile hinting at the corners of her lips, as if showing that the insult wasn't supposed to be taken in a derogatory way. "Now, what is it?" She asked, gently shutting the door behind her before leading Emma into her parlor, gesturing for her to take a seat on the couch.

Emma allows herself to be tugged along, keeping her focus on absolutely anything but the woman in front of her. Regina has never seen the savior quite so fidgety before and for one quiet moment, she simply watches her as she plays with a fraying string hanging from the edge of her red leather jacket.

There's something about the way that Emma, more often than not, looks like a little puppy in her presence, that makes Regina refrain from snapping at her. Not to mention she brought flowers. Which, Regina is still confused about. Nevertheless, she has always had a very secret soft spot for the savior, and she wants to know what the whole display is all about.

"I just, uh, wanted to check in?" Emma offers, finally mustering up enough confidence to gaze up at the brunette with a small smile on her lips.

"At midnight?" Regina questions back, brow arched in disbelief as she loosely crosses her arms over her chest. "And with roses?" Averting her gaze downward momentarily, she catches a glimpse of a small bubble of blood pooling at the tip of Emma's finger, from where she had accidentally punctured her thumb with a thorn that the florist had forgotten to remove from one of the long stems.

"Hold that thought," Regina cuts in again just as Emma opens her mouth to speak, stalking to the kitchen to dampen a paper towel and extracting a Band-Aid from one of the cupboards before returning to Emma, sitting beside her this time. She takes a pale hand within her own while the blonde still remains silent.

Regina applies gentle pressure to the small cut with the paper towel, focusing her attention on her hand as she repeats her question: " _Now_ , do tell why you're really here."

"These are for you," Emma quietly replies, setting the dozen long-stemmed roses down on the coffee table in front of them.

"I had a feeling, since I didn't think you'd bring our son roses at midnight on a Wednesday." Whenever Regina refers to Henry as their son, Emma can feel her heart beat faster within her chest. "But the question is, why?" Emma is pulled from her trance as she hears the woman's question, quietly clearing her throat.

"Because you deserve them."

Emma's response causes Regina to slowly look up from the injured hand that she still clutches in her grasp, and meet green eyes out of curiosity. "You know, Emma…" She trails off slowly, peeling the Band-Aid from the backing before carefully wrapping it around her old enemy's thumb. "Roses are quiet nice to look at, but they have thorns. They can hurt you."

The analogy certainly isn't lost on Emma, who lightly sinks her teeth into her lower lip in thought, trying to form a rebuttal. It was clear that Regina now knows why the blonde was there, and to her surprise, she doesn't seem closed off from the idea, only hesitant. But before she can manage to say anything in return, Regina carries on once again.

"You can scour the entire stem ten times over, thinking you removed every dangerous thorn, but in the end? There's always a chance that if you touch a rose the wrong way, it'll only hurt you." Regina's gaze drops back to Emma's hand as unshed tears stings the corners of her eyes. "Sometimes it's best to not pick them at all. They're better off living with others of their kind."

"Regina…" Emma trails off through a sigh, turning her hand over between Regina's own two, and lightly squeezing them to the best of her ability. "I think that having the privilege to hold something so beautiful, is worth the risk of pain."

What happens over the course of the upcoming five seconds is a blur to both women. Neither knows who initiates the kiss, but neither seems too worried over it. It's soft, and tentative, and they both treat it as though it's their first.

Regina is the first to pull back and when she does, there's a teasing smile on her lips. "I have something for you too," She whispers quietly, before leaning over Emma to snatch a small tube from the coffee table, presenting it to her shortly after. "You're a good kisser, despite the chapped lips."

Rolling her eyes, Emma smiles despite herself, plucking the ChapStick container from Regina's palm. "Do you always have to be an ass?" She playfully questions, settling to lean against her new love's shoulder.

"Mm, that's partially where I was going with the analogy of the rose, in case you missed that," Regina evenly replies, pressing a kiss to the top of Emma's head. "Looks like you have to put up with my…assness if you want to touch my _assets_." She arches a challenging brow, to which Emma simply rolls her eyes.

The rest of the early morning hours between the two are spent by sharing chaste kisses and discussing where they're going from there. By 5am, they're both soundly asleep, curled up to each other in a position that'll probably result in back pain for them both.

Around noon, they wake up to the roses being neatly settled in a glass vase on the coffee table, a mug of coffee for Regina, hot chocolate for Emma and a note that reads:

 _Moms,_

 _Hope I don't wake you two by the time I leave for school._

 _I love you both and I'm happy as long as you are._

 _Love, your son,_

 _Henry_

Emma had been right to assume that Henry knew that her and Regina would somehow make their way to each other. And as the two women take everything in, the smiles that grace their lips are priceless. The most important person in both of their lives is accepting of whatever they've started together, and that feeling is amazing.

"Hey," Emma suddenly speaks, eyes landing on the roses before they trail back towards the still groggy Regina. "Last night, I never got to ask you – "

"Yes, Swan," Regina answered before the question was even finished, a glimmer in her eyes. "I'll go on a date with you."


End file.
